


I'm Here, Too

by petmunchkin



Series: Flickering Existences [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Editing what editing, I mean FLUFF, M/M, but with fluff, dorky dorks in dorkland, flickering existences, mentions of other crows and family members, minimal angst, not enough angst tbh, weird AU is weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4969477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petmunchkin/pseuds/petmunchkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Did you go somewhere during training?”</p>
  <p>The question comes completely unexpected and Kageyama stops dead in his tracks, swirls around, eyes wide. With a sinking feeling in his stomach he notes that they’re the only ones left in the changing rooms and there’s nowhere to hide.</p>
  <p>“What?” His voice is a little high-pitched and he doesn’t like that sound, swallows.</p>
  <p>Hinata looks at him, serious, his eyebrows slightly drawn together and determination in the press of his lips. “Well, did you?”</p>
  <p>Kageyama’s eyes slide away.</p>
  <p><i>Shit</i>, he thinks, panicked, and then, <i>How—?</i></p>
  <p>
    <i>Shit.</i>
    <br/>
  </p>
</blockquote><br/>Kageyama has a problem with existence, mainly that it doesn’t always involve him. He’s fine with it, really. Everything’s A-OK.<p>(Hinata begs to differ.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Here, Too

**Author's Note:**

> **Unbeta-ed.** I honestly don’t know where this came from. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

He’s been flickering in and out of existence lately.

The first time, at least that Kageyama’s aware of, must’ve been around his first year of middle school, when his dream of volleyball started to overshadow anything else in his life and he got serious about it, really _serious,_ and competitive, and his problems with his teammates were only just beginning.

He thinks it was partially Oikawa-san’s fault, no matter how unintentional his becoming a sort of role model/rival for Kageyama might’ve been, but teasing and ridiculing the younger teenager only proved to spur him on in his endeavour to become the best setter in the world, so he thinks Oikawa-san definitely wasn’t without fault there. It didn’t help either that he felt his fellow teammates were slacking off where they had no right to do so, nor that they didn’t seem to understand or even want to know why it was so important for him to give his best (nor that he couldn’t fathom why his best couldn’t be matched by theirs, if he thought they ever even seriously showed it).

It only got worse in his second year and especially his third year where, after the rejection he faced by his teammates, his flickering became worse and worse, until he was gone for minutes at a time. From then on it was just a continuous downward spiral he couldn’t stop even if he’d tried.

He’s barely aware of it, at first, because the times he spends in nonexistence are short (mere seconds), and no one says anything, no one seems to notice anything off so, naturally, he doesn’t either. He does become aware of it eventually, once the periods get longer, once he finds that he’s actually _losing time_ while somehow conscious of it. It’s as if his body flickers out of existence but his mind remains, and somehow he knows what’s happening yet has no means to interfere until his body comes back out of limbo.

The thing is that _no one knows._ No one takes notice, not even his own parents (not even when he’s been sitting _right there with them at the table_ ), because he’s basically so _gone_ in those moments that no trace of his existence is left behind. Out of sight, out of mind is what they say. It’s weird, of course, but it works itself out, somehow (which is maybe even weirder, considering).

Once, during practice, he flickers right out, distinctly aware of someone yelling that they need a setter, where the hell is Hanase, can someone call him please? Not five minutes later Kageyama’s back in existence and practice continues as normal, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened and they’ve been playing like this all day, and someone in their midst didn’t just vanish into thin air and then came back. Interestingly, the substitute setter never comes, even though Kageyama’s sure someone actually called him and he should be on his way, so it seems that the universe or whatever has a way of righting these little inconsistencies.

He becomes accustomed to it. As much as anyone can become accustomed to temporary states of nonexistence, that is, but he’s got worse problems by the time they really start to annoy him considering he’s being benched for official games and otherwise shunned by his peers, also about to fail his exams, and it’s not like he thinks he can do anything about it anyway, it just happens. He’s gone, then he isn’t. That’s just the way it is.

It’s just another stupid thing in his fucked up life he has to deal with and it’s not like he cares, as long as he can play volleyball.

-

When he comes to Karasuno things change. He changes. It’s a slow process, though, so the flickering still happens, a lot, but he likes to think (hopes) that maybe, just maybe it’s become a little less. It’s not like anyone would notice anyway, and even though it does occasionally interfere with his volleyball, he figures he’ll just have to deal with it, as always.

At least no one’s rejecting his tosses this time, so it’s fine, it’s fine (definitely much better than middle school).

-

It’s been a week since their loss against Aoba Johsai and he’s been flickering a lot more during practice, to his own annoyance and everyone else’s obliviousness, when one day after practise Hinata (the idiot) stands right in the middle of court and just... keeps looking at his hands. (Like an idiot.)

Kageyama doesn’t really care besides being annoyed that Hinata isn’t cleaning with him, but he’s mostly preoccupied with his own thoughts for the moment, reflecting on today’s practice and how and what he could improve. In any case, he thinks that the redhead is probably just doing that staring-at-his-hands-in-awe thing he sometimes does when he’s been spiking a lot that day, though once Kageyama does look over he sees that Hinata is actually frowning, deep in thought.

“Oi!”

Hinata startles, shoulders tensing when he turns to look at Kageyama, a quick apology on his lips.

“You’re staring into space,” Kageyama informs him casually, with his usual scowl, “while you should be cleaning.”

“I—yeah,” Hinata squeaks, grabs a nearby broom but doesn’t move to use it. He looks back at his hands instead. “I just thought... something felt wrong.”

Kageyama frowns, walks over. “Wrong?” he asks, standing behind Hinata and looking over his shoulder at his hands as well. He doesn’t see anything wrong with them; they’re perfectly Hinata-like.

“Yeah, like...” Hinata scrunches up his face as if he’s trying really hard to think. “I don’t know, my hands sting less or... different or something. Like we haven’t been doing enough quick sets today or something.”

Kageyama stares. He honestly doesn’t get it, but Hinata could be weird like that, sometimes. “We’ve been doing lots of quick sets today, what are you talking about?” That is, of course, except for the times when Kageyama wasn’t _there,_ but Hinata obviously couldn’t know nor would he understand, so it doesn’t matter.

Hinata laughs, a little strained, and turns around, puts a hand behind head. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mumbles, “I was being silly.”

But Kageyama catches him staring at his hands a few more times afterwards, that same puzzled expression on his face, like he’s trying to figure out a game without knowing the rules.

-

It happens more often in the following weeks, Hinata being so lost in thought someone (Kageyama) has to snap him out of it, and every time he seems to be aware of _something_ being wrong. When it’s not his hands (“Are you sure you’ve been tossing right to me, Kageyama?” “DUMBASS, OF COURSE I HAVE!” “BLEH, NO NEED TO YELL, BAKAYAMA!”), it’s that he subtly asks Kageyama to practice more with him (and later admits that he feels like they haven’t been practicing enough lately, as in _the both of them. Together. Specifically),_ or that he asks Kageyama if he’s been feeling sick lately, for no apparent reason at all (“No, I haven’t. Why would you even think that, stupid?” “I wonder...”). Honestly, it’s a little unsettling, and it certainly doesn’t help with Kageyama’s increasing bouts of flickering lately.

One day, Hinata keeps looking between Kageyama and Sugawara-san repeatedly while they’re having a break, seemingly frustrated about something, his forehead creasing as if he’s trying to figure out all of their math homework in one go, and when Kageyama has finally had enough he stomps over, towers over the shorter male and growls, “What? What is it this time?!”

Hinata, though, being Hinata, just fixes him in an equal glare and yells right back, “I don’t know!”

Someone coughs and Kageyama turns his head slightly. _Shit._ They’re already getting worried, or in Sawamura-san’s case warning looks from their teammates, so Kageyama tries to rein himself in, retreats a bit but doesn’t let go of his scowl. He’s crossing his arms and waiting for Hinata to explain and Hinata worries his lip, eyes flitting this way and that.

“I’ve been training with Suga-san more than with you. I think. I mean, not that that’s bad or anything, but!” He trails of, shrugging helplessly.

Kageyama feels his breath hitch, frowns. Wait... Could he be...?

No. No way.

“That’s bullshit,” he says eventually.

“I know!” yells Hinata and Kageyama has to shush him. Hinata looks up, frustrated. “It’s just a feeling,” he says angrily, “you don’t have to be so mean about it!” He puffs his cheeks, crossing his arms in a pose mirroring Kageyama’s and turns his head away. Kageyama opens his mouth once more, to try and defuse the situation a bit, but Coach Ukai uses that opportunity to blow the whistle, effectively ending their conversation/fight. The break ends and they go back to practice, throwing each other a few more glares but otherwise silent about the matter.

Thankfully, Hinata doesn’t approach the issue again and Kageyama feels a little relieved, though ultimately confused because—

No. No way.

Hinata’s just an idiot, after all.

-

“Did you go somewhere during training?”

The question comes completely unexpected and Kageyama stops dead in his tracks, swirls around, eyes wide. With a sinking feeling in his stomach he notes that they’re the only ones left in the changing rooms and there’s nowhere to hide.

“What?” His voice is a little high-pitched and he doesn’t like that sound, swallows.

Hinata looks at him, serious, his eyebrows slightly drawn together and determination in the press of his lips. “Well, did you?”

Kageyama’s eyes slide away.

_Shit,_ he thinks, panicked, and then, _How—?_

_Shit._

“I don’t know what you mean. Dumbass.” He tries masking his nervousness with irritation. It doesn’t quite work.

Hinata slams his locker shut, moves over and _into his face,_ looking up at him with a stern gaze. He says, voice low, “I think you know exactly what I mean.”

(Hinata is many things, Kageyama’s learned over time—an idiot, too loud, too happy, too oblivious, shitty at volleyball basics, easily intimidated—but he can be oddly perceptive, too, and all the more uncanny for it.)

Kageyama doesn’t answer.

Hinata looks at him a little longer, eyes like daggers, pinning him down and into place, then he finally huffs in frustration and moves away to give Kageyama some breathing space. (And breathe he does.) Hinata grabs his bag, then, throws one final irritated glance over his shoulder, as if to say _I’m gonna find out eventually_ (and yeah, it feels like a threat) and walks out, slamming the door in the process.

Kageyama’s left reeling.

_(Shit.)_

-

Hinata keeps watching him. The little annoying redhead seems suspicious of his every movement, those furtive glances much less subtle than Hinata realises or probably cares for, and it pisses Kageyama off the more he becomes aware of it, glaring more than usual only to meet with narrowed eyes and pursed lips and resolve so strong it leaves Kageyama a little breathless. (He likes Hinata’s aura of resolve, it’s scary at times but also satisfying in a way he can’t explain. He doesn’t like it when it’s directed at him, though, when it follows him wherever he goes and makes him feel like he’s a high-profile inmate in a prison ward on death row.) He eventually determines he’s not going to let himself be intimidated, or bullied into another temper-tantrum (he’s trying to learn patience here, damnit, and he’s been doing pretty fine so far), so he loftily ignores the other boy’s attempt at tormenting an explanation out of him (how is he supposed to explain this, anyway?) and just keeps on playing volleyball like always.

Incidentally, he’s been flickering much less lately which is a blessing in more ways than one, especially when he’s so suddenly overcome with the fear that Hinata might “catch him in the act” or something, even though that’s technically not possible. In any case, it’s not something he’s responsible for nor something he can change, and no amount of Hinata cornering him with his wary little eyes or his frustrated, pouty little mouth could do anything about it, either. End of story.

Thankfully, Hinata lets up a little in the weeks following, as Kageyama’s vanishing act hasn’t happened at practice in weeks, and he’s breathing a little easier until one day at morning practice he feels it, the gentle but insistent tug that precedes that hollow, carved out sensation he gets in his stomach, and he knows he’s going to vanish, soon, shit, it can’t be long now (where’s Hinata?), any second—

“Kageyama!” comes a voice and suddenly Hinata’s there and Kageyama’s _there_ with him, catching his breath and blinking rapidly.

_The. Fuck._

_(How—?!)_

“What?” he growls, a little too harsh with the feeling of that emptiness still lingering in his stomach, gnawing at his insides.

Hinata looks at him with a half-panicked, half-stupefied expression, eyes blown wide and mouth standing slightly open. Kageyama almost wants to tell him how stupid he looks when—

“You—you flickered!”

Kageyama blanches.

_“What?”_ he repeats, or tries to, it comes out as a croak, only half-intelligible.

“Just now you—was that a trick of the light?” Hinata’s gaping, eyeing him all over, up and down and up again as if to make sure Kageyama is still there. Or _there._ “You did it before, I saw. It was like you were going to—to _disappear!”_

If Kageyama wasn’t in panic before, now he is. “What are you saying, dumbass, of course not, that’s—” He’s breathing hard and fast, feeling the beat of his heart hammering away in his throat to the rhythm of _liar, liar, liar._ Shit. He doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears, let alone Hinata’s.

“Kageyama, what was—”

Kageyama cuts him off by shoving a ball into his face. “Dumbass Hinata! Stop making things up in that airhead of yours and go back to practicing your shitty receives!”

Hinata’s spluttering, cursing something fierce when he wrestles the ball from his face, but Kageyama doesn’t stay to meet his glare, instead stomps off into the opposite direction, leaving Hinata to yell after him.

He avoids the redhead for the rest of practice, keeping to his senpai while ignoring or fending off Hinata’s increasingly aggressive advances, all the while willing himself not to flicker again, please, don’t flicker, just don’t, just until he can get away from here.

He eventually does get away and then promptly proceeds to avoid Hinata all throughout the day, easy as they’re not in the same class (not as easy when Hinata comes looking for him during lunch and he has to duck behind the teacher’s desk, meeting someone’s confused stare with a death glare) until afternoon practice starts and he can’t keep avoiding anymore. He honestly contemplates not going, just for a second, but really, this is volleyball— _volleyball—_ and if he loves anything it’s this, and neither his stupid nonexistence problem nor Hinata’s stupid nosy little attitude are going to ruin that for him. Ever. So he goes.

He thanks every deity known to the world that he doesn’t flicker again during practice, hopes he’s let off the hook at least for today when he rushes out of the changing rooms first and walks home at a swift place, only slowing down slightly once the school’s out of sight. He hurries along while actively trying to quench that nervous feeling in his stomach, but it only grows stronger with every passing minute and—

Oh.

Well shit, it’s going to happen.

At least Hinata’s not here to watch (how does he do that anyway? _How?_ ), so Kageyama slows down until he’s standing, waiting for it to happen, and he can feel himself flickering, almost, almost, scrunches up his face in annoyance because _god,_ does he _hate_ that feeling. Distinctly, through the nausea, he’s aware of a crash in the distance, then a sort of drumming drawing closer (like footsteps on pavement, growing louder) and just when he thinks this is it, he’s _gone_ something solid _slams_ into his back and he finds himself with a face full of dirt and a heavy weight on his back.

_What. The. Fuck._

He tries to wrestle himself free, shaking off whatever ran into him and spewing a multitude of curses all at the same time. The weight finally lifts and he takes a deep breath, turns over with a glare that promises a thousand horrible deaths (and then some) only to be met with Hinata’s panting red face. Hinata who looks at him with an unfathomable expression, somewhere between relief, wonder, anger and fear, and Kageyama wants to rip him a new one, really, he’s dying to, both verbally and physically, but he’s basically stunned into silence and immobility, panting just as much as Hinata. Vaguely he tries to process that he was about to disappear when Hinata... Hinata _ran_ into him full force and if that wasn’t the most unlikely coincidence _ever_ —

It wasn’t.

Of course, it wasn’t.

Kageyama can see it written all over Hinata’s face, in the latter’s eyes. _He knows. **He saw.**_

_(Well. Fuck.)_

They stay silent for a moment, letting their breathing return back to normal, Kageyama wondering how he can salvage the situation and coming up with nothing. Eventually Hinata stands up, brushes off the dirt from his pants and holds out a helping hand. Kageyama takes it after a moment, and then they’re both standing, looking at each other, cautiously gauging the other’s reaction.

Hinata isn’t saying anything, neither is Kageyama, but there seems to be an understanding there all the same.

“Where’s your bike?” Kageyama asks, in an oddly calm voice. He feels somewhat exhausted, drained. He’d thought he was going to go, for the second time that day, but he stayed. Hinata made him stay. Again.

Hinata blinks, a little confusedly, then turns his head into the direction they came from. Kageyama does the same and, sure enough, there’s the bike lying on the ground a few metres away, as if abandoned in a hurry.

“I kind of didn’t want to run my bike into you,” Hinata says, shrugging. “Thought it’d be overkill.

Kageyama nods, feeling drowsy. “Yeah.” Dips his head. “I appreciate it.”

Together they go fetch Hinata’s bike and walk the rest of the way in mutual silence. When they come to the intersection where they usually part, Hinata follows Kageyama without asking for it. And Kageyama doesn’t say anything, just lets him.

-

Explaining things to Hinata isn’t easy. There’s a lot of stuttering involved on Kageyama’s part, a lot of embarrassed and uncalled-for almost-yelling as well, but Hinata remains completely silent throughout, listening intently with his mouth agape and his eyes wide, at times in serious danger of falling out of their sockets, and he looks somewhat doubtful at first but he says he believes Kageyama (and the relief on Kageyama’s face must be evident when Hinata smiles at him).

Hinata says he’s been having this feeling for a long time, this feeling of _wrongness,_ like something was off, maybe. First during practice and then later outside of practice, too, at times, and he apparently couldn’t place it for a long time until he found that it had something to do with Kageyama. From then on, Hinata recounts, he’s been much more attentive (“I noticed,” snorts Kageyama and gets a playful jab in his side), and it took him a little while but he kind of somehow figured out that Kageyama was... absent. Except Hinata was never really aware of it while it happened, but when he got to thinking _later..._ he could tell. From little things, mostly, like the thing with his hands or that he somehow felt less worn out after practice than usual (less satisfied, too, he admits sheepishly) and also it felt like they fought less, although he wasn’t the only one who noticed (“Suga-san told me how nice he thought things were going between us and I just thought BUH? Something must be wrong.” “Seriously?” “We always fight. It’s weird if we don’t.”).

Then came the flickering, of course. Hinata had seen it once, on another day, thought it was merely his imagination, but then it happened again this morning and Kageyama was acting weird, and then tonight—well, it all added up. Somewhat.

“Why?” asks Hinata quietly, like it’s a secret between them. It is, but no one’s at home anyway, so there’s no real need to whisper.

Still, Kageyama’s voice matches Hinata’s when he admits, “I don’t know.” He shrugs helplessly, a little defensively. “It just happens.”

“There’s nothing you can do?”

“Like what?”

Hinata thinks for a moment. “I don’t know... think happy thoughts?” Kageyama’s expression says _Really?_ and Hinata laughs. “Okay, maybe not.” He thinks for a moment longer. “But, it helped when I called your name this morning, right? And when I crashed into you, you were about to go again, but you didn’t.”

Kageyama grumbles a bit when he says, “I’d prefer if you didn’t always run me over just to keep me from flickering out.” (It’s the sort of thing Hinata would do, he thinks, stupidly rationalising his means to an end—and hurting Kageyama is a nice bonus, too.)

Hinata laughs again. “But it worked, didn’t it?” He ducks a little away to avoid Kageyama grabbing his head. “And I can still do it, right?” he says, catching Kageyama’s hand and holding it in his instead. Kageyama stares. “Like this, right? Or when I call you?”

Shrugging, Kageyama tries to act nonchalant. (He feels a little weird having his hand held like this, actively keeps himself from flinching away.) “I guess.”

“It’s better this way, isn’t it?” says Hinata, “I mean, you don’t actually want to go, do you?”

Does he? It’s not like Kageyama wants to deny his whole existence (who’d want that?), but. _Does he?_

(He’s had the growing suspicion that yeah, sometimes he _does,_ and maybe that’s why it happened in the first place, only that it kind of took a life on its own and now it happens even when he doesn’t want to, so...)

Hinata frowns at his expression. “Kageyama. You don’t actually want to _miss practice,_ do you?”

Kageyama blinks, then shakes his head rapidly. “No.” Of course not. Never.

The answering smile Hinata gives him is positively radiant.

“See,” he says, and gives Kageyama’s hand a squeeze (who startles; he’d honestly forgotten for a moment they were holding hands). “Then that’s settled.”

Kageyama looks at their conjoined hands, notices how Hinata doesn’t let go even though he’s made his point and it’s been, what, a few minutes already? (He’s feeling wide awake all of a sudden.)

“It’s nice to be here,” muses Hinata into the quiet, “You’ll see.” And the way he says _here_ has Kageyama thinking he means more than just here in this room, at this time.

They are silent for a bit, warmth seeping from Hinata’s fingers and right into Kageyama’s, until Hinata pipes up again. “It’s Saturday tomorrow.”

“Hm? Yeah.” Kageyama keeps getting oddly distracted with their skin on skin contact.

“We have no school...” Kageyama startles slightly when Hinata turns to him, a glint in his eyes. “Hey, can I sleep over?”

-

It’s two weeks later when they have a practice match and they’re the only ones left in the changing rooms, though this time it’s admittedly Kageyama’s fault; he’s been dawdling since he didn’t sleep well last night and is still recovering from a rather nasty cold from a few days before. He’s about to close his locker, feeling a little lightheaded already, when suddenly there’s an arm around his wrist.

Kageyama looks down, confused, then up with his face halfway between a frown and a glare.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Hinata’s not intimated in the least, looks directly into his eyes with a serious expression. “You were flickering just now.”

Kageyama’s eyes grow wide. He _was?_

( _You saw?_ he thinks distractedly. He’s still getting used to that, that Hinata knows and _sees_ and... cares.)

Oh. He probably didn’t notice what with how queasy he’s been feeling all day. (It’s been a while since his last flickering, too, if he thinks about it. Huh.)

“Thanks,” Kageyama mumbles.

“I just wanted to make sure you stayed, you know,” says Hinata. “With me—us.” He switches the last two words against each other at the last second, but it’s a little too late. He’s blushing and Kageyama with him.

“Don’t go,” Hinata mumbles after a pause, shifting on his feet. Kageyama swallows, nods. He’s trying, he will try. Hinata smiles at him.

He doesn’t let go of Kageyama’s wrist for a little longer, as if to make sure Kageyama’s really fine, really _staying_ (with him—them), but finally slides his hand away. Slowly. (Kageyama somehow misses the warmth.)

“Okay,” breathes Hinata. A moment passes and he says, louder, “Let’s win this, then, shall we?” with that same resolve he attacks every single one of their matches.

Kageyama nods again. “Yeah.” And he may be smiling back, just a little. (And it may not even be creepy, much.)

-

It becomes routine. Whenever he feels like vanishing Hinata is somehow _there_ to do or say something (touch his shoulder, his arm, call out his name or simply talk to him) in order to make him stay, _there_ (with him) _,_ and it somehow works. It still happens, from time to time, when Hinata’s not with him, but a lot less in general, and certainly not as long anymore. Honestly, Kageyama’s never felt better in his life.

One day in practice he actually does flicker, though, while Hinata’s on the sidelines having a serious talk with Coach, and no one notices, not even Kageyama until it’s too late and he’s _gone._ Hinata turns around and goes back to practice unperturbed, and Kageyama thinks well shit, guess he’s actually got to wait this one out, but then Hinata slows down his steps, frowns deeply and looks around the gym as if searching for something. Kageyama swears he can tell the second Hinata’s eyes grow wide and he _remembers,_ and suddenly he’s calling out for him, “Kageyama!” and Kageyama pops back into existence just. Like. That.

He still feels confused at the turn of events, a little nauseous from his nonexistence trip, when Hinata runs up to him and punches his shoulder lightly.

“You ass,” he laughs. “Stop trying to dodge out of practice!”

Everyone who’s heard seems thoroughly mystified at the statement, but shrugs it off the next second (because this is Hinata and Kageyama, Kageyama and Hinata, and they do things like that; no one ever really understands anyway).

(They don’t know how right they are.)

Hinata smiles, then, picks up a volleyball and throws it at Kageyama who catches it with ease.

“Toss to me?”

-

Hinata sleeps over a few more times (a lot more times) and Kageyama finds that he doesn’t mind, might even enjoy it (might _really_ enjoy it). He enjoys _staying_ and having someone _stay,_ in every sense of the word, and when Hinata invites him over, too, he goes without a second thought.

Hinata’s family is nice. His mother makes them pork curry (“Shouyou told me you’d like that,” she says, smirking, and Hinata squirms in his seat, blushing around his ears), his father is a business man and very neat, kind of like Kageyama’s parents. His sister keeps looking at him weirdly the first few times he comes over, hiding behind her brother or under the skirt of her mother, but she slowly warms up to him as well (a miracle, kids usually hate him just as much as animals do) until one day he finds himself sitting with her in his lap and going through her favourite picture book. Hinata is bold enough to actually take a picture (mumbling, “Shit, that’s cute” under his breath, but Kageyama hears and then wishes he didn’t, feels himself blushing), and then goes on to send it to Kenma and who knows how many other people, so Kageyama naturally swears revenge, he’s gonna get back at him for that, just you wait, you idiot.

Curiously enough, Kageyama almost never flickers when he’s with Hinata and his family, the one time on his second visit notwithstanding (but Hinata had subtly pressed their legs together under the table, and then proceeded to hook his foot around Kageyama’s calf, all the while animatedly chatting about his day while Kageyama sought to stop the fluttering in his stomach, so very different from what he usually feels when he’s about to disappear).

It rarely ever happens these days when he’s at school or pactice, either, though it still happens at home a little more often, but since Hinata’s there, too, half the time the flickering is limited to the odd night when Kageyama’s parents work late and he finds himself alone at the dinner table. (Hinata will ask the next day and, upon confirmation, he will touch him more, Kageyama notes, little reassuring brushes against his knuckles, his back, brief contacts of skin that leave a warm feeling in his stomach hardly allowing any space for emptiness anymore.)

They grow close, _really_ close as they spend their time together, and it’s with their victory in their second year Spring High tournament that Hinata hugs him dearly, right there on court after their finishing quick combo, and for so long that Kageyama says, embarrassed, “You—you can let go now. I think,” even though that’s about the furthest from what he wants, really, but Hinata just looks up, grinning, and says cheekily, “But you don’t wanna miss this moment, right?” Kageyama is on the verge of telling him that he doesn’t feel like flickering at all (feels more like exploding into butterflies, but that would be embarrassing to tell) when he catches Sugawara-san’s eyes on the stands, knowing smile on the latter’s face, and Kageyama shuts up and just hugs back and buries his face in Hinata’s soft, tangly hair.

After that it becomes only more apparent, and really a little too silly to deny it for much longer, so it’s fine when one evening Kageyama has another one of his rare disappearing moments, sitting on his parent’s couch with Hinata watching a movie, and Hinata just leans over, catches his face between his hands and kisses him to keep him _there._

“Okay?” he asks after, cheeks tinted a rosy pink and face open, a little vulnerable, but eyes full of hope looking up. Kageyama stares for a moment.

“Yeah,” he answers after a breath, and Hinata’s suddenly smiling wide, shifting close to snuggle into his side. Kageyama only hesitates for a second before he puts an arm around Hinata’s waist. He doesn’t flicker again.

They continue like that into their third year, finally winning Nationals and restoring Karasuno’s good name once and for all, and eventually their lives shift out of high school and into college proper where, of course, they room together, play together, _stay_ together, and it happens slowly, gradually, but over the years Kageyama’s nonexistence becomes a nonexistence itself, he doesn’t flicker, doesn’t vanish anymore, so that he almost forgets he ever suffered from such an odd condition in the first place.

Almost.

It’s only sometimes, rarely but it happens, that he’ll wake up with an empty stomach, mistake it for that emptiness that he feels when he’s about to disappear, but then there are fingers softly carding through his hair with ease, and gentle lips on his sweat-dampened forehead, and a soothing voice right at his ear, whispering.

“Don’t worry, Tobio. I’m here, so are you.” Bringing him back from nonexistence, tethering him to reality, the _here_ and _now_ that is their life together.

Making him whole.

_Yes,_ Kageyama thinks with a smile on his face and gleaming warmth spreading throughout his stomach, into his limbs and all the way up to his fingertips and down to his feet, _Me too._

_I’m here, too._

**Author's Note:**

> THE FLUFF OH GOD!!
> 
> THE CHEESY ENDING WHY!!
> 
> (yikes i finished a fic how!!)
> 
> -
> 
> m (__ __ ; ; m
> 
> Thank you for ~~suffering~~ reading. Apologies for anything that needs apologising.
> 
> Reviews and ConCrit are very much appreciated.
> 
> Cookies for everyone who points out grammar mistakes. English is not my first language ~~and it shows. *cries in corner*~~
> 
> Cheers.
> 
> PS.: I have many more KageHina WIPs but I don’t know when/if I’ll get around to writing/finishing them, sooo... O_O (*subtly asks for a Beta*)


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